Piles of Rocks

I don't understand it, but I love to pile rocks on top of each other at the beach. I could do it all day. I think I could do it for weeks. I walk along the shore seeking the perfect rocks to build with. I listen to the waves swooshing and the seagulls singing. I smell the salt air and feel the breeze and sunshine on my skin. I build precarious little piles - the more precarious the better. Strange as it seems, this is the most relaxing activity I have ever engaged in.

Last week, on my vacation, we went to Kittery Point Beach one day, which, since it is the place where I most enjoy piling rocks, is my favorite place on earth. We spent quite a while there, and Carl and Orion enjoyed piling rocks with me. (While Steve and Bo enjoyed creating and sharpening prehistoric cutting tools with other rocks.) We made a veritable city of rock piles. These pictures capture only a very few of the structures. We made a whole skyline of dozens of towers and arches along the rocky shore. It kept us engaged for hours, and it continued to hold our attention for days afterward, when one of us would say something like, "I wonder if the rocks are still standing?" or "I wonder how many people noticed them." or "I bet the rock city looked awesome at sunset."
We also spent quite a bit of time trying to name it. Stone Angeles? Stone Vegas? Stoneton-Rouge? That day at Kittery Point (Stonery Point?) was the highlight of my vacation. As I said, I don't understand why I am so drawn to piling ocean rocks on top of each other. But since I absolutely and completely lose track of myself and of time while I'm doing it, I figure it must bring me close to God.